That's What Love Can Do
by NickyNGreggoCSI
Summary: Nick barely manages to raise his 4-year-old daughter while working the graveyard shift at CSI, but when an odd case comes in, he doesn't know if he can work it without personal involvement. Plus, he has to work it with a member he's attracted to. UPDATE!
1. Chapter 1

As the sun set along the Las Vegas skyline, the work day was dying down for many people and the party life was getting underway. But for Nick Stokes, however, his work day was just beginning, and not in the way he had hoped. Apparently, his four-year-old daughter, Mackenzie, was still in the midst of her clingy stage, blowing Nick's hope for putting in some overtime at the lab out the window. It had taken him at least ten minutes of arguing for Kenzie to grasp the concept of going to sleep and another fifteen of dilly-dallying before she was finally under the covers, and that withheld five more minutes of conversation of "why"'s and "because"'s.  
  
"Daddy, why can't I go to work?" Kenzie asked, her brown eyes pleading for a truthful answer. She was a spitting image of Nick. Unfortunately, she had obtained his stubbornness too.  
  
Nick sighed as he took a seat on her bed. "Because I have to catch bad guys, and that's not a lot of fun. Besides, I work way past your bedtime, kiddo. Now enough with the questions okay? Go to sleep." He tucked her in beneath her 'Hello Kitty' bedding and placed a kiss on the top of her head. Brushing some of her dark brown hair out of her face, he whispered good night before quietly leaving the room.  
  
"Finally get her to bed?" Mrs. Whithers, Nick's next-door neighbor, asked as she watched Nick climb down the stairs. She was in her mid-sixties, looked like the typical 'grandma-type' lady with graying hair and a caring face, and had been a blessing to Nick when Kenzie was born. She would stay over every night when Nick had to go to work.  
  
Nick nodded as he grabbed his jacket off the base of the banister. "Yeah, finally. It keeps getting harder and harder each time, though."  
  
"She just wants to know what her father does when he goes out at night." Mrs. Whithers replied with a soft smile.  
  
"Well, I don't think that D.B.'s, hair fibers, and DNA are very exciting for a four-year-old." Nick said in sarcasm. He thanked her for watching Kenzie like he did every night, headed out the front door, and climbed into his Jeep Grand Cherokee. Backing out of the driveway, he made his way towards the Strip, another interesting night lying in wait for him.  
  
It was about ten minutes later when Nick's SUV fell in line with the rest of the cars in the parking lot of the Las Vegas Crime Lab. Stepping inside, he weaved his way through the maze of white corridors and glass-lined offices, passing many DNA analysts along his way. He made a U-turn around a corner and into his office, flicking on the light. Shrugging off his jacket, he took a seat at his desk and fired up his computer. As he flipped through his mail, spiky-haired Greg Sanders, one of the DNA analysts, popped in.  
  
"Putting in some O.T.?" Greg asked.  
  
Nick looked up. "Oh, hey Greg. Yeah, file the last papers on the Holt case and wait 'til Grissom gets a call."  
  
"I see." Greg's eyes scanned the room, then locked back on Nick. "Where's Kenz? It's summer vacation."  
  
"Doesn't mean she can stay up late. She's at home with the babysitter." He turned to the computer and started typing away.  
  
Greg shrugged. "You should bring her in sometime. I can keep her busy in the lab when you have to go into the field."  
  
Nick reached over and picked up the file on the end of his desk, placing it beside the keyboard. "Maybe. We'll see."  
  
"Have you, uh. have you heard from Melissa lately?" Greg asked, referring to Nick's ex-girlfriend and Kenzie's mother. Two years beforehand, she had basically dropped Kenzie into Nick's lap, telling him the little girl was his responsibility. They had just finished going through a bitter custody battle about two months ago, and Nick had obtained full custody, but Melissa had supervised visitations whenever she wanted. However, she hadn't even bothered to call to make plans, which upset Nick. The fact that a mother didn't even try to see her own daughter he couldn't comprehend.  
  
Nick's jaw became stiff as he calmly answered Greg's question. "No, Greg. She hasn't, and I don't think she will." He turned to Greg. "Don't you have work to do?"  
  
"Right." Greg turned and almost collided with Grissom who rounded the corner. "Hey boss."  
  
"Hey Greg," Grissom replied, sliding past him and not wanting to make chitchat. Dressed in black dress pants and a long-sleeved navy blue buttoned up shirt, the supervising CSI held a file in his right hand and his glasses in his left. His salt-and-pepper hair was styled in its normal crew-cut fashion and his blue eyes gave an insect glare at Nick, as if he was saying 'Don't you have something better to do?'.  
  
Nick glanced at him for a moment. "Hey, Grissom. We get a call?"  
  
Grissom nodded. "Yes, a pretty interesting one at that. Out front, two minutes."  
  
"Well, aren't you going to." Nick drifted off when he turned towards the door only to be met with silence and open space. He hated when Grissom did that.  
  
Nick put the computer on sleep and headed toward the locker room. He changed into his CSI vest and hat, stopped back in his office for his field kit, and headed out into the parking lot where Grissom, Warrick, and Sara were waiting in the Tahoe. He loaded his kit in the back before hopping in beside Warrick in the backseat.  
  
"So what's going on exactly?" Nick asked as they sped down the freeway.  
  
Sara answered, "All Brass said was we needed to get to 84 and North ASAP."  
  
"Oh, gee. That's helpful." Nick replied.  
  
Warrick sighed. "Isn't it though?"  
  
It didn't take them long to get to the crime scene, which wasn't exactly hard to miss. They walked under the crime scene tape and Brass joined them from the other side. He immediately let the statistics roll off his tongue. "A tourist was passing through with his dog; let him out of the car to take care of his business, which led him to this." He motioned to a certain area of woodland. "Go in about ten feet."  
  
Grissom gave an odd look to Brass, but followed his advice and cautiously stepped through the brush. He didn't have to go far when he saw something glint in the glow of his Mag-Lite. Taking a closer look, he discovered what looked like a very decomposed body of a small girl, no older than 8. Slightly moving his flashlight to the side, he saw something glint again. Looking about two feet beyond the girl, he saw another decomposed body of child, this time a boy about the same age. But that wasn't all.  
  
"Oh my god." Warrick said, following Grissom. "Don't tell me we have a make- shift body farm. of children."  
  
Grissom solemnly nodded. "I think so. Check the area. Who knows how many there could be, or how far in."  
  
Sara and Nick covered their mouths, choking back their coughs from the nauseating smell that drifted from the brush. Stepping cautiously, the team estimated that the "body farm" spread over almost 30 square feet and close to 15 bodies of children dumped there, their ages ranging from two to ten- years-old.  
  
Nick let out a cough as he crouched down beside a girl about Kenzie's age. She had curly blonde hair and dressed in a pair of jean shorts and a pink shirt. She didn't have shoes on, only socks. She looked to be strangled by the deep lacerations that were on her neck. He deeply sighed, reminding himself that he couldn't make this case personal, no matter what happened. He was just thankful that Kenzie was luckier than these children. whatever had happened to them. Nick couldn't begin to fathom what these kids went through or who could have possibly done such a thing.  
  
"How many?" Grissom called.  
  
"I have two!" Nick said, moving his Mag-Lite to another girl that just beyond his stance.  
  
Warrick followed. "Three here!"  
  
"Seven where I'm at!" Sara yelled.  
  
"Fourteen total." Grissom sighed. "We've got a long night ahead of us."  
  
The four CSIs, along with their traveling coronist, Dave, trudged through the gruesome crime, wishing they could get through it as soon as possible. Dave called for back up from the coroner's office to get the bodies to the morgue, clearing the scene so the team could get down to work collecting evidence. They didn't find much however; only a few fibers which contained a slim possibility of being related to the victims. After wasting away close to two hours along the highway, the team headed back to the lab. 


	2. Chapter 2

"Greg!" Nick called, walking into Greg's work station. Greg spun around on his stool and faced Nick, who shoved a clear, Ziploc-type bag in his face. It contained a hair fiber from the scene. "Process this ASAP and compare it to all these." Nick then dumped 14 more bags onto the table, each containing a hair from each victim. "If you get a match, I don't care. If it comes up unidentified, page me." With that, he turned on his heel and left, leaving a bewildered Greg a tad confused, but he got the just of it.  
  
As Nick stormed out of Greg's station, he almost collided into his fellow colleague, Kristin, who had come in to shift a bit late. She threw her hands up as if she was surrendering to him as he flew past. "Geez, Nick, where's the fire?" she asked, her blue eyes stating a look of confusion.  
  
He turned and glared at her. "You would know if you showed up to shift on time." He snapped.  
  
Kristin returned the same attitude, accompanied by an explanation. "I got into an accident on the way here. My Tahoe is trashed. I called Grissom and told him I would be late. Get off my back."  
  
Nick approached her. "Look, we don't have time for our banter. Fourteen kids were found dead off the highway and we can't waste anytime with this. I'm going back to the scene. Meet me out front in five."  
  
Kristin immediately switched into serious mode as she heard this. She nodded as she ran a hand through her short, brown hair. "Got it. Be right there." They went opposite directions, Kristin to the locker room and Nick to the parking lot. After Kristin pulled her windbreaker over her small frame, she grabbed her field kit and walked the corridors.  
  
"Hey Kris!" Greg said, poking his head out of his station. Kristin stopped and turned to him.  
  
"Yeah, Greg?"  
  
The analyst leaned against the door frame. "You got tickets to Dashboard Confessional yet?"  
  
Kristin rolled her eyes. "Don't rub it in."  
  
"Well." he teased, reaching into this lab coat pocket and pulling out two tickets. He waved them from side to side. "Two of my friends couldn't go, and I hate wasting these tickets to some freaks outside of the arena, so if you can find a date-"  
  
Kristin snatched the tickets from his hand and gave him a hug. "Oh my god, Greg! Thank you so much!"  
  
Greg laughed as he let her go. "Well, I know that this'll put some points in my column so I know you'd appreciate it."  
  
"Laurie's going right?" she asked, referring to another team member and one of her great friends, who in fact dated Greg.  
  
"Dude, she almost ruptured my eardrum when I told her I was taking her."  
  
Kristin laughed. "Well, thanks again and I'm sure I'll find somebody to take. In the meantime, I'll see you later, probably with a cranky Nick on my tail." She started down the hall.  
  
"You know you want him," Greg said.  
  
Kristin turned her head and smirked. "Yeah, I do."  
  
Greg stared at her as she turned around and walked away, completely confused as to if she was either joking or being totally serious about his statement. He walked back to his station, pondering the conversation as he began on Nick's fibers. 


End file.
